Monday, March 28, 2016

Network Path Invalid

I hate and despise the fact that I hate and despise the new copy machine.  I never wanted to become THAT person who can't embrace the new technology for love of the old.  But, damn.  I miss that old machine and its limited capacity for both performance and screw up. 

Just now I tried to scan a document.  I have to scan to a flash drive because the almost brand new copier doesn't 'network' with Windows 10 and has decided my computer doesn't actually exist. 

No matter what I did, it would not scan.  It just sat there, all smug and shit.  I ranted.  I raved.  There might have even been a trash can that got kicked. 

Words were said, many of them comprised of four letters.  Some were longer and more descriptive of both the machine and its dubious parentage. 

Finally, before reaching the Thing Throwing Stage, I gripped the edges of the adjustable touch screen display and tilted it so that the overhead light wasn't glaring on it.  My eyes are evidently aging and I need a little extra help to see stuff sometimes.  I flipped through the various menus looking for something - anything - that might explain why the scanner simply would. not. scan. 

I set and reset the settings.  I jammed and unjamed the pages into the document feeder.  Buttons were punched with grim determination and perhaps slightly more than the necessary force. 

And then I saw the small print.  At the very, very bottom of the display screen.

"Please insert USB device."

And I looked down at my clenched fist. 

And registered the small red flash drive that I still held in my hand. 

And sighed.


I hate that smart-ass machine.  

9 comments:

  1. Hoist on your own petard

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  2. hahaha! I love that saying, Cyn!

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  3. LMAO I KNOW the thing throwing stage! ~snorts~ you are old.

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  4. hahaha! Yes, you do.

    Yes, I am. Crap.

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  5. Anonymous2:32 PM

    LOL, thanks for the good laugh, I can just picture you! CT

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  6. You also know about the Thing Throwing Stage, Cindy. :D

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  7. Nothing like discovering the trouble is YOU, not that clod headed, motherless beast of a machine. Oh, mortification, thy name is the same as mine.

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  8. ~snort~ You made me laugh, Lady Anne. So true!

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